February 14, 2009
More than 40 years ago I became involved in the criminal justice system in the United States.
I wasn't a cop, or a lawyer, or a probation officer. Admittedly my route to prisons, courtrooms and rehab centers was a unique one. I read a play "Fortune and Men's Eyes" written by John Herbert, a man who had been incarcerated as a teenager. As a theatre person, I was determined that this powerful prison drama would see the light of day. I produced "Fortune and Men's Eyes" which dramatically altered the path of my life.
With the actors, back in 1967, I had my first visit to a jail. My response to Riker's Island was that it was an exercise in institutional futility – a view of prison and jails that I have not amended after visiting institutions in over 40 states and several foreign countries. I was in Attica during the famed insurrection in that prison in 1971, invited as an Observer by the inmates.
The Fortune Society began as a result of forums held on the stage at the Actors’ Playhouse where the play was presented. There I began meeting men – and eventually, women – who had been incarcerated. My teachers were the formerly incarcerated, who brought me into a world far afield from my small town New Jersey upbringing. Preconceived notions about former felons evaporated. In time, I became acquainted with the humanity, dreams, fears, and most of all, humor of that early team that comprised The Fortune Society.
Having grown up with reasonable suburban comforts, seeing old movies where prisoners were either rioting or escaping, I was not surprised at the negative revealed in the actual prison experience. I was to be greatly disillusioned and disenchanted by the other aspects of the justice system. Most cops do their jobs but there are a few...the much-discussed "bad apples". The failure of the police department and their unions to confront the negative members...the famous blue wall or conspiracy of silence that protects the guilty discredits the entire department. Much more disillusioning to a novice who became active in working to create fairness and opportunities for people caught in the revolving door is the political chicanery and outright lies that permeated the courtrooms and offices of the district attorneys. Behind cloaks of respectability, Rotary Club lunches, and political connections the deceit at the highest level of the criminal justice system is the greatest assault on those who believe that justice is a part of the blueprint which creates a democracy.
There have been horrendous cases of abuse – made more despicable by the cover-ups. President Obama's recent statement "I screwed up" is more than admirable. It is so rare that the media has been unable to assess its implications.
In Manhattan, in 1989, the arrest of 5 Black teenagers in what became known as the Central Park jogger case is but one example of political pressure resulting in faulty police and prosecutorial work with an attitude of "So what if a bunch of Black kids do time?" Their eventual release was hardly a comfort to them and their distraught families.
If you want a vivid blueprint of how the criminal justice system can break down, you will have to read A Criminal Injustice: A True Crime, a False Confession and the Fight to Free Marty Tankleff by Richard Firstman and Jay Salpeter, published by Ballantine Books.
While reading this riveting tale my anger was at a fever pitch. A 17-year old boy was convicted of murdering his mother and father in wealthy Suffolk County. He never was permitted to mourn their devastating loss - and his parents' lives and deaths were always in the shadows of a monumental case of injustice. Tankleff was nabbed by the police on the morning of the crime. They ignored all other possibilities - which were apparent to almost everyone outside of the criminal justice system - and with prosecutors and judges they managed to get this lad convicted. He served 17 years before he was freed and the real perpetrators exposed. There was continued resistance of the DA's office in Suffolk County and the pursuit of truth was irrelevant to them.
The entire system in Suffolk is suspect. After reading of the abuses and the cover-ups I don't know how anyone could enter a courtroom there and think that the discovery of truth was the goal. Political ambition and the protection of reputations is the MO. In this startling book you learn that Martin Tankleff was not the only scapegoat, only the most publicized.
The Suffolk County DA's office, in this case, is more than despicable. The lengths they went to perpetuate a false and cruel punishment was a dangerous betrayal of the public trust. In one instance a man involved in the planning of the original crime agrees to testify for Tankleff at an appeal hearing years after Marty was imprisoned. At the last minute he reneged. Shortly after that the DA's office dropped armed robbery charges that were pending against him. I know of a similar situation in Manhattan. The DA's office rather than admitting an error will go to great lengths to cover-up the truth and the wrong man stays locked up. It endangers public safety and is all about protecting the DA's image and sometimes the questionable and possible criminal involvement of law enforcement persons.
Of course, Suffolk County doesn't have a monopoly on such inequities. Read John Grisham's "The Innocent" or recall the play "The Exonerated" or remember Randy Credico on WBAI alerting us about the drug frame-ups in Tulia, Texas. Or just find out about the hundreds of released prisoners as a result of the efforts of The Innocence Project.
If democracy is to have any meaning then the criminal justice system must have accountability. The book A Criminal Injustice is a clarion call for enlightenment. I would begin by getting the robes off the judges and remaking the courtrooms with a minimum of pomposity and a maximum of truth and clarity.
I’m David Rothenberg…out on a limb.
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